


Bleeding Cherry Tree

by TungstenCat



Category: Fate/stay night & Related Fandoms, Fate/stay night (Visual Novel)
Genre: End of the World, F/F, F/M, Horror, Not crossover though, Rape/Non-con Elements, Shades of I Have no Mouth and I Must Scream, Terrible things done from love, hurt/dubious comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-19
Updated: 2020-07-05
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:00:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24798064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TungstenCat/pseuds/TungstenCat
Summary: It was too cruel even for him to make her face eternity alone. All he had to do was tweak a few details.
Relationships: Emiya Shirou/Matou Sakura, Illyasviel von Einzbern & Emiya Shirou, Matou Sakura/Medusa | Rider, Matou Sakura/Tohsaka Rin
Comments: 10
Kudos: 38





	1. Sakura

**Author's Note:**

> Another exorcism of a story idea that just wouldn't leave, even if it's far darker than my usual fare. Hopefully the release of the third Heaven's Feel movie will wipe it all away. Please note the tagged warnings - this is not for the faint of heart, even if the unpleasant elements come from a place of misguided love rather than hate or cruelty.

Sakura stared helplessly at the girl slumped in her arms, black hair trailing on the stony ground beneath them. A deeper red was blossoming from under the crimson of Neesan's shirt, coating Sakura's fingers in sticky wetness. _Blood_ , she told herself, even as her mind recoiled from it, _that's blood_. So much blood, pouring from her sister's lacerated stomach where the blade had torn her open, rebounding on her like a serpent after she had jerked it away from Sakura in mid-strike.

 _I like you, Sakura._ Neesan's voice had trembled in her ear as shaking arms wrapped around her neck, filling her with warmth that she had thought forever lost. Words echoed in her ears; the ones she had always longed to hear but knew she never would. _I've always watched you, and I wanted you to smile._

Clenching her hands around rapidly cooling shoulders, she stared down at the crumpled red flower shivering in her grasp. The other girl's eyes were closed, her ragged breaths coming in shallow bursts. Trembling, Sakura cursed her upbringing at the Matou hands, not just for her suffering but for how utterly _helpless_ it left her. If she had been taught healing magic, if she could make _any_ use of her magic circuits other than to hurt and kill… but she already knew it was hopeless. For all the power of the Shadow coursing through her, it had only ever stolen heat, stolen life. It did not change that Sakura was not the kind of girl who could help others, whatever Senpai believed of her. Whatever she herself had managed to believe, on bright mornings when they set off for school together after a shared breakfast. _Weak, selfish, a burden to everyone…_

Her throat constricted painfully as she ran a finger over a black silk ribbon, a replacement for the pink one tied in her own hair.

_Thank you for always wearing my ribbon._

A scream tore from Sakura's throat as she buried her nose in raven hair, sobs wracking through her whole frame. Self-loathing hit her like a wave, flooding out even the dark elation pouring in from the Grail. Where the circle of black light blazing on the cavern wall had so recently felt like strength and vindication, it now filled her with despair.

 _She loved me_. _She always did, despite everything._ In another time and place, the realization would have been a soothing balm for years of hurt and grief. Under the crimson shadows of the hope-eater, it was instead a jagged knife to Sakura's heart, tearing open the sorrow and yearning she had buried in spite to protect herself.

 _Now she's dying, and it's my fault._ Hot tears flowed down and welled in the cracks of her lips as she thought of the dark passages leading to the vast cavern, and the grim guard she had set before it. _Like Senpai will die, when he tries to force his way through to me. He won't give up, not even when Saber cuts him to shreds. And I… I'm the one who…_ She hiccuped, her chest heaving violently. _All so I could confront my sister, before eating him whole._

The world blurred through her tears, fading into shadows as dark as the ones pooling under her feet. She sunk to her knees in that darkness, cradling her sister like a broken doll before letting her drop to the ground. _Everyone's dying, and it's my fault. Because I wasn't able to bottle it up anymore, and let the Shadow run rampant. Because of my anger, my despair, my weakness…_ The stone was rough as she scraped her palms against it in a futile effort to steady herself. _I just wanted an end to hurting. I never wanted…_ The vice in her chest tightened. _Senpai, please…_

Every thought, every breath, was dredged through the mud of despair. For a moment Sakura stared down towards the cavern floor, barely illuminated by the Grail's unholy fire, and thought about flinging herself over the ledge. But she was terrified of death, even now. Just as she had been that night, when she overheard Neesan at the Church telling the priest she would kill her for the safety of everyone. Sakura had let Senpai protect her, convince her not to give up despite the Shadow growing inside her.

She should have known better. She _had_ known better, but she had been selfish, weak, disgusting —

" _They don't have to die_ ," whispered a voice in her head, interrupting her litany of self-loathing. " _You can save them."_ Masculine and dark with confidence, it sounded nothing like her own thoughts, which often had to be pinned down before she could examine them. If she closed her eyes, she could almost hear it as Senpai's voice, but somehow both younger and yet unthinkably old. As old as a chasm, as the void between the stars.

"I'm going mad," she whispered, wrapping her arms around herself protectively. A broken giggle escaped her lips. "I think… I think I'm okay with that. If it means forgetting." The smile froze on her face as she saw the shadows around her lengthen and solidify, tearing their way through the fabric of reality. _But what if it makes things worse? That's what I would deserve, after everything I've done._

" _Of course you're mad. You're human, aren't you?"_ observed the voice, not without some humour. " _But that doesn't mean I'm not real."_ A moment of silence, punctuated by the distant rumbling of the earth splitting overhead, then it returned in a softer tone. " _You already know who I am_."

"You're the Shadow," she said, anger bleeding into her voice. "All the World's Evils."

The entity that had taken root and festered inside her, drained her od and wracked her with agony, drove her out into the night to devour people. The shadowy ribbons of her skirt thrashed with her growing fury. " _You_ did this. This… this is your fault!"

" _Yes,"_ it agreed, surprising her with its matter-of-fact tone. " _This is what the world made me, what humanity wished me into being. And for all the suffering I know will follow, I want to be born_." There was an odd sigh, rustling through her brain like ancient parchment. " _Even if it's selfish, I want to live_."

Flinching, she found herself thinking of that night again. _I didn't want to be hurt or scared,_ she had murmured to Senpai, barely audible over the rain, and he had clasped her to his chest despite knowing how filthy she was, how tainted. The night he had convinced her to reach for the faint sliver of light on the far shore, despite the storm closing in on them.

Then reality had set in, battering them cruelly until everything was wreckage. Shirou dead or worse by Saber's blade; Neesan bleeding out on the craggy rock; Rider ghosting along the cavern's passages, unwilling to abandon Sakura even if it meant being consumed by the unleashed Shadow.

Coppery red filled her mouth as she bit down hard on her tongue, hoping the pain would pull her from her spiralling thoughts. Pull her out of this insanity, where she found herself sympathizing with a monster. _Monster._ She focused on that word, hoping for revulsion, but it only made her think of Rider. The Servant's fingers had been gentle on her shoulders when she had gently told Sakura she had answered her summons because they were both—

" _Once I am born, I will turn this world on its side,"_ said the Shadow. " _I will grant humanity its wish of suffering, and grant you your wish of peace_."

Despite the solemnity of its threat, the voice was strangely soothing, pulling over the corners of her mind and tucking her in like a warm blanket. It reminded her of another voice, long ago - gentle at first, then wracked with pain, but always calling out to her. The name danced on the tip of her tongue, but her shattered mind could not form it.

" _I can heal them, and build you a paradise among the shadows. A safe place for you and those you love._ "

"A safe place," Sakura whispered as a cherished vision swam into focus before her eyes. The warm kitchen of the Emiya house, full of delicious aromas and clean surfaces without a trace of old rot or blood. Senpai at her side, flipping okonomiyaki on the stove as she chopped the toppings. Occasionally he would tell her a small joke, or perhaps she might find enough courage to tell one in turn, and laughter and shining eyes would flow between them. For a few hours in that blessed room, she would forget Niisan's cruelty, Grandfather—no, Matou Zouken's—empty black eyes, even the worms riddling her flesh. A moment of simple contentment, a ray of sunlight after ten years chained in darkness.

" _That moment, that place, forever_ ," purred the Shadow. " _Frozen in time, for as long as you want it._ "

Sakura hesitated, wringing her hands atop the shadows encasing her knees. Another roar sounded from the distant cavern roof, and a few pebbles clattered to the ground around her. Neesan's wild strikes with the crystal blade had badly damaged the cave's integrity, and its collapse was a matter of time.

 _If I resist a little longer, the Grail will be buried under a thousand tons of rock_ , she told herself, trying to force sternness into the thought. Her fingers coiled against the red lines scarring her legs. _The War will end and the Shadow will return to slumber. The world will go on_. She just needed to hold out against the calls of the child forming in that pilar of pulsing darkness.

She took a deep breath, mustering up the dregs of her courage, everything that had not been drained away by fear and pain and bitter envy. "It's wrong," she said. "I can't let you out to hurt everyone."

" _Everyone that hurt you, or stood by and did nothing. That hurt people like you every hour, in every land."_

With a shaky sigh she closed her eyes, expecting to be assaulted by memories of crawling worms and flesh violently invading hers. Instead, sharp pain blossomed along Sakura's cheek and tore a cry from her. Biting her lip, she raised her head just in time for the next stone to strike her on the side of the head, then another to her shoulder. With each brutal impact, she curled in on herself a little more, automatically raising her arms to shield her face. It wasn't as if she needed to see her tormentors. Through the crimson eyes she shared with the Shadow, she could all too easily see the gaunt figures sneering down at her, their mouths twisting cruelly as they reached for more ammunition.

 _It's your fault_. Shrill voices drifted over centuries to pour their venom in her ears. _Murderer, monster, devil. The famine that took my cattle. The war that stole my son. The sickness that eats my bones. You made them all happen._

"I didn't," she whimpered as another stone hammered into her side. "Please, stop. Please!" But she already knew that they wouldn't, just as no one would come to help her. Even those that might have wanted to, the world would pin down and destroy. _People like Senpai_. Who even now might be gasping his last, cold and alone in this underworld. All because he had wanted to save her. _Cruel, it's too cruel._

" _Mother,"_ whispered the Shadow in her mind, and she froze in place. The phantom crowd was gone, leaving only the Grail before her, suspended in a crown of stony claws. The voice seemed to pulse in time with the black light spilling from it. " _Mother, please."_ The longing was palpable under the curling darkness. " _I want to be born, to fulfill my purpose. And… and to see sunlight, one more time._ "

Her heart twisted as she thought of her own mother handing her away, with sad eyes but also a grip as merciless as snow in a land without refuge.

" _Don't leave me. Mother. Please._ "

"I'm sorry. But I can't.. I can't let you."

" _Everything needed to make things right again. Everything your heart yearns for. I can give it to you."_ Black tendrils raised from the ground, twining carefully around her sister's legs. " _I will save her, and the boy, and the Servant who suffered so much for you. I will save them all_."

Hope rose, then sputtered in her chest. It _had_ to sputter, even if that meant forcing it, because… "You'll kill everyone else."

" _As they wished me to. This is the salvation they seek—absolution from their sins, which I will grant."_ It came as a soothing whisper, wind through sweet grass. " _You see destruction, but it is liberation. For what else could ever make up for what they have done to you, and thousands more like you?"_

"That's not…" She trailed off as the figures danced before her again. Even the smallest ones had stones clenched in their hands.

" _And you won't ever suffer again."_

An end to suffering. Not just the torture of her body, but the shame and fear that threw a deathly pall over every moment of her life. When Senpai had taken her into his heart and his bed, embraced her despite everything, she had caught a glimpse of it.

Then it had all turned to ash. All that seemed left was to devour Senpai, as the last way she could still have him. But now she was being offered another chance. No, perhaps it was the first and only real chance she had ever been offered.

Still she hesitated as familiar faces smiled at her from phantom halls. "Fujimura-sensei. She was kind to me, even when she didn't have to be." She wrung her hands again. "And Mitsuzuri-senpai tried to look after me, even if she… but no, what could she have done…"

" _How very compassionate of you, Mother_ ," said the Shadow, though a touch of scorn withered its tone. " _Wanting to save those that should have known better, but turned a blind eye to your suffering."_

"Even if they'd known, there's nothing they could have done! That man—no, that _thing_ —would have killed them the moment they looked too closely."

" _Still. They didn't even ask, no matter how many bruises you showed_."

"No…" Shoulders slumping, she unconsciously rubbed her arms. "They never did." _But Senpai confronted Niisan, and only backed off after I begged him to. And he made up for that, so many times_.

And now he might be dying, still reaching for her through blood-caked fingers.

Panic gnawed at her heart, threatening to engulf her whole before she wrestled it down. Still, her blood pounded in her ears as she stared up into the eerie circle of the Grail. "Maybe I would have been the same too, if I'd been happy. So please, spare them. Give them their own corner of paradise, their own happy moment in time. Even… even if it's not with me."

Because while Sakura wasn't sure she could bear to look at them now, they had tried to be kind to her. Fujimura-sensei had always welcomed her with bright smiles and a hearty appetite, and had even pushed her towards Senpai when she was afraid to take the first step. And Mitsuzuri had been a patient captain and a loyal friend _(even if never quite enough of one)_.

Rather than immediately leaping on the bargain tentatively offered, the Shadow seemed to hesitate in turn. When it finally spoke again, its voice was strained piano wire. " _I'm sorry, Mother. I meant to spare you this, but... "_

Dread crept up her spine on icy cold fingers. "No…" she murmured, shaking her head in denial.

It wouldn't do any good. She knew that even before the vision hit, a cold fog seeping behind her eyes. Blinking, she found herself standing in the stillness of the Emiya dojo, barely recognizable in the gloom of night. The polished wooden floor was cold against her bare feet, but not as cold as the sight of rusty droplets staining its surface. They led to a woman collapsed on the floor, her cheerful green-and-yellow dress washed to cold gray in the moonlight. Three thin cross-shaped blades were embedded in her back.

Something shrill rang in her ears. It took the burning in her throat to make her recognize it as her own scream. _I never wanted… Fujimura-sensei always smiled at me, even if she missed… oh god._

Tears stung her eyes anew as she shivered on the stone. The black and red shadows that coated her like a second skin closed in a little tighter. But instead of chilling her trembling body, they felt strangely soothing as they rippled around her.

" _I can show you the other,"_ said the voice gently.

"No!" Sakura shouted, then clasped her hands over her face. Each ragged breath felt like she had to pull it from her aching lungs. "No… I don't want to see Mitsuzuri-senpai like that. Please…"

Ugly convulsive sobs echoed in the cavern as she pulled in her knees, closing defensively around herself. For all that the shadows followed her, twining around her arms and ankles in an attempt at comfort, lead settled miserably in her belly and bile rose in her throat. It was all she could do not to throw up.

She watched the shallow rise and fall of Neesan's chest. She felt Rider pull at her mana, and knew her to be locked in deadly combat against the once-noble knight she had corrupted beyond all redemption. Most of all, she thought of Senpai, with his determined eyes and quiet dignity, willing to stagger through hell to see her again. Then those eyes dulled in death as his body broke apart, his head twisting at an unnatural angle— _just like Niisan, when you murdered him—_ and she vomited. Her empty stomach contracted violently, forcing up a vile mixture of acid and saliva that scorched her mouth before dribbling down her chin along with her sweat and tears.

" _It's too late for your friends, but not for him. You can still save him."_

"I can't," she muttered, wiping the bile from her chin. She closed her eyes and tried to think of bustling schools, the pink petals of cherry trees in spring bloom, laughing children… but they all seemed pale and distant, easily washed away by brighter memories of a boy's rare smile and the rough feel of his calloused hand in hers.

" _He gave up his dream of heroism for you, Mother. He was willing to sacrifice the world and everyone in it so that you could smile. Won't you do the same for him?"_

What did sunlight look like, again? Had it always been a ring of black fire?

" _Don't you love him?"_

"I do," whispered Sakura frantically. "He's everything to me."

" _Then won't you let me save him?"_

Sakura said nothing for a long moment, suspended painfully between guilt and hope. Then a small giggle escaped her lips as she gripped her forearms. The presence in her mind purred in approval, sending phantom fingers to curl reassuringly around her beating heart and her shuddering shoulders. When they sank in a little deeper, settling into her bones and flooding her mind with warm darkness, she sighed and let them.

" _Soon now, Mother. Then you will be at peace."_

Distantly, she watched as little tendrils of solidified shadow snaked out along the ground, reaching up to curl around her sister's legs. When they spread upwards towards the bleeding wound, Sakura felt relief rather than fear blooming in her breast. _Everything will be made right._

"Yes", said Sakura, and smiled.


	2. Rin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning that this chapter contains the rape/noncon elements, presented in enough detail to merit a content advisory. If that's something you'd rather avoid, you can easily skip this one and go directly to chapter 3 when it's posted. Also, I'm fairly sure I'm going straight to hell for all of this.

Rin woke to darkness. Her heart pounded so hard her chest hurt, and her entire left arm felt like it was on fire. As painful as it was, the searing heat of injured muscles was better than the unnatural chill in her belly and the icy cold surrounding her limbs. Worse when she felt something prickle under the numbing cold, as _something_ crawled over torn flesh and knit it together.

Fighting down a surge of panic, she forced herself to take deep breaths as she oriented herself. _Sakura, the shadow giants… detonating the blade_ … her sister's hopeless gaze as she closed the distance, the second knife cold in her hand.

Only to find that at the last moment, she couldn't kill Sakura. Not after everything she had suffered, everything that Rin had abandoned her to in willful blindness. Not when she still wore her ribbon, even when pushed to the brink of madness. _Cruel. It would have been too cruel._

Something rumbled in the distance, drawing her back to the present. Snapping her eyes up, she found herself staring into the black abyss of the Grail. It pulsed with malevolent power. Black mud spilled from underneath, covering the ground in crawling darkness. _No! It's still active! If it manifests…_ She grit her teeth against the taste of ash and failure in her mouth. _I have to fix this. I'll find Sakura, and we'll… we'll figure something out. We have to._

Blinking furiously against the pain throbbing in her skull, she tried to sit up, only to find herself held fast. Dark tendrils slithered around her wrists and legs, tightening until she was pinned to the ground. Instinctively she struggled against their terrible strength, but they didn't cede an inch. She might as well have been trying to throw off Ber—

"Don't move, Neesan," said a familiar voice from her side, sweet and airy in the darkness. "You'll reopen the wound if you thrash like that."

Hands cupped her jaw, turning her to face Sakura's serene expression. Crimson eyes, utterly wrong on her sister's face, locked with hers even as the other girl's lips curved into a gentle smile. "See, it's almost done," she said as she waved downwards towards Rin's stomach, before giving a satisfied sigh. "Just as that child promised."

"Sakura," groaned Rin, unable to look away from that smile. "Sakura, the Grail…"

"I know." Sorrow thinned her sister's brow as she stroked Rin's cheek with the back of a hand. A hand along which red lines pulsed and glowed like living creatures. "All the World's Evils. The people wished for him, and so he came to be."

Then she giggled, not the forced thing she gave adults and classmates, but the genuine joy of a young woman. It made Rin's heart clench. "Once this is over, we'll all be together. You and me, and Senpai and Rider too! No magecraft, no rituals or basements. No father to pit us against each other. No battles to fight, no people to save." She gave a happy sigh. "Just the four of us, forever."

There was madness dancing in Sakura's eyes, entirely at odds with the soothing calm of her voice. Fear lanced through Rin, setting her thrashing anew against the shadows binding her.

"Sakura, no!" she cried. "Forget whatever it told you. If I don't stop the Grail, it's going to kill us all!"

"Shh." Fingers ran through her hair, massaging her head. Their warmth was a stark contrast to the cold still slithering over her belly. "You've struggled hard, haven't you? Just relax. Everything will be alright."

Rin found herself instinctively leaning into the touch, seeking more of that warmth. Nobody had touched her like this in more than ten years, not since Mother had gone away. She had convinced herself that she didn't need it, that a magus could live on discipline and will alone.

It was shameful, how it all fell apart in the dark.

_Focus._ Hissing between her teeth, she pulled experimentally against the tendrils again. Still no give, but she would not let that defeat her. She was the heir of Tohsaka. Whatever she might think of _him_ now, she could still claim the stubbornness of her bloodline.

She turned to her sister once more. "Listen, we have to—-"

Raw fear gripped her when the tendrils swelled and engulfed her in their cold embrace. Creeping up her sides and underneath her clothes, sliding on naked flesh. Rin instinctively tried to jerk away, to escape their intrusive touch. Try as she might, they followed her movements, serpents seeking the heat of her body. She felt exposed, helpless, _vulnerable_. All the things she hated most, that she had promised she would never allow herself to be.

"Sakura!' she cried, her voice high and strained. "Sakura, is this your…?" Her heart lurched when the other girl gave a slow nod. "Stop it, make them stop!"

"It's awful, isn't it?" muttered her sister, her eyes oddly unfocused as she watched the shadows blindly tear through Rin's clothes, the better to bury close. "The way they crawl all over you. Inside you."

A vision swam in front of Rin's eyes—another cold stone floor, another darkness, but tinged with sickly green instead of red. The forbidden basement of the Matou house, with its stench of decay and ominous shadows crawling in the mortuary niches. She had almost vomited from simply setting foot inside the empty chamber, and her sister had been entombed there with worms, night after night, year after year—

"I'm sorry," she choked out, tears prickling in her eyes for the first time that night. "When your hair changed, and your eyes, and you looked sad all the time… I shouldn't have looked away and told myself you were fine. I should have helped you."

"Yes," said Sakura simply. "But I forgive you. Because I love you, as you love me."

If there had been anger or malice in the crease of her mouth, Rin would have understood, accepted it as her deserved judgment for years of neglect. But there was only a brittle joy in her sister's smile as she shifted closer. Somehow it frightened Rin more than open hostility.

"Then help me," she said, seeking out her sister's eyes and forcing herself to hold them despite the alien crimson that had supplanted the violet corruption of the Matou. If she willed it hard enough, perhaps she could force them back to the aquamarine of innocent childhood. "Emiya will join us soon, okay? Together, we can still beat Avenger. Don't give up, Sakura."

Sakura said nothing, only maintained her disconcerting smile as she settled herself behind Rin and drew her head into her lap. Blackened ribbons from her dress brushed against the older girl's cheek, cold and smooth as silk; as the tendrils still lapping at her skin.

"I'm not giving up, Neesan," she said sweetly, resuming her stroking of raven-black hair. "I'll make us happy, you'll see. But first, we need to be connected."

"Connected? What do you mean?" Rin demanded.

"So his power can flow through you." Her smile briefly faltered, but reappeared with her next words. "So he can bring you to paradise with me."

Rin's next question died on her lips when Sakura stiffened and looked past her. She followed her sister's gaze, and instantly regretted it.

The blood froze in Rin's veins as a figure poured from the inky darkness, black wisps coalescing into broad shoulders and taloned hands. For all that its edges blurred and snapped with cold fire as it approached them, the scratching of claws on stone sounded terrifyingly solid. Red eyes glowed from the face of a demonic hound; shadows rippled over its fanged snout and blade-sharp ears.

"That… that's not…" she stammered, her voice high and shrill in her own ears. Unlike the crude shadow giants that had shattered themselves on the Jewelled Blade, there was a frightening grace in the shade's strides. "Sakura, _what_ is that…?"

"Not what, Neesan. _Who._ "

Sakura met the apparition's gaze, crimson locking with crimson for a few pounding heartbeats. Then she nodded, lips pressed in a hard line as her arms tightened around her sister's shoulders.

"Please go ahead," she said. Whisper-soft, but unmistakably a command.

Dread twisted in Rin's gut as the shade leaned over her. It was impossible to pick out any features clearly between its blurring form and the darkness of the chamber, but she had the uncanny sense it was grinning at her. Its eyes shone bright with the crimson promise of sin. Sin, and lust, and violence.

"No! Don't you dare—!"

White hair swept against her forehead, cold as a ghost's caress, as Sakura leaned down to whisper in her ear. "This is the easiest way to connect you. It hurts at first, but it gets better. I promise."

Hands seized her waist in an iron grip, claws digging into her skin. A hiss of pain left her lips as she was pulled forward, rough stone scraping whenever the writhing tendrils had left her back exposed. This was really happening then; this scene unimagined even in her worst nightmares.

"Sakura, stop it!" she cried, and despaired when her sister sadly shook her head.

_No, no no NO. This can't happen. I won't let it._

Fists clenched, she forced the last drops of her remaining mana through her Crest, gritting her teeth through the agony it sent surging through nerves already cruelly torn by the Jewelled Blade. Blue light flared in the darkness as Reinforcement took effect, hardening her muscles to iron. She threw herself against her bonds with strength born of magic and sheer desperation.

For one shining moment, she felt the shadows loosen their grip, letting blood flow again through her bruised wrists. A solid kick to the shade's shoulder forced it back just far enough to give her room to breath again. Frantically she redoubled her assault, desperate to break free before it could recover. One tendril snapped, then two. She was almost free—

Then a new wave of shadows erupted from the black ribbons of her sister's dress, lashing around her arms and pinning her down more tightly than ever. She struggled for a few desperate heartbeats, muscles screaming and head pounding from fear and exhaustion, before finally falling limp.

"Fighting doesn't work," said Sakura quietly once Rin stilled. "I tried too, at first."

Rin felt her heart twist again, but panic swallowed that anguish whole when the shade straddled her legs. Even with most of its weight settled on its haunches, she felt caged in, _trapped_.

"Don't..." she said, fear turning what she had intended as a command into a broken plea. "Please don't. I'm not… I haven't even…"

Rin had entered the War with what she had believed were wide open eyes. She had resigned herself to the possibility of death at a stranger's hand, and prepared to face it with the elegance and grace demanded of a Tohsaka. But not _this_ , not defilement at the hands of a nightmare, abetted by the sister she had longed for.

"Virgin, of course," sighed Sakura, though the sympathy was shaded by bitterness. Then her brow softened as she took Rin's hand. "Try to relax, Neesan. It's more painful if you're tense."

The talons were on her again, greedily caressing her thighs. The tendrils receded before them - not enough to free her, just enough to let Rin feel every cold touch. Sickness joined the terror in her belly when she felt her body shiver in response. Distantly she understood it as a physical reaction, the body's way of preparing itself to protect from damage, but that didn't stop the flood of shame.

"Sakura, please." Her grip tightened on the fingers interlocked with her own. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry for everything that happened to you, I'm sorry I wasn't there for you, so please..!"

The twist of misery in her sister's smile made Rin's wrists jerk against her restraints, her fear for a moment eclipsed by an instinctive need to hold and soothe her, even in this situation. But the shadows' grip was merciless.

"Begging doesn't work either", said Sakura. "Believe me, I know."

The shade hovered over Rin, its powerful frame tense with anticipation. Whispers from the shadows filled her ears, a faint susurrus of ancient syllables. Then clawed hands pushed at her thighs to force her legs open, and terror consumed her. Madly she scrabbled at the ground with her free hand, unheeding of the rough stone cutting in and making her bleed.

"Sakura, please—!"

"I'm sorry Neesan, I really am. But I won't lose you again." She squeezed Rin's hand once, a second time. Then her jaw tightened and she nodded at the shade.

Rin could not escape those gleaming crimson eyes, or the talons that gripped her hips. Her scream was lost in the clinging darkness as the shadow pushed into her, fierce and merciless. It hurt, it _hurt_ , spearing her on icy fire, tearing her open as it thrust its way inside, impossibly deep and far too large. She opened her mouth to curse, to plead, _anything_ , but all she could do was choke on empty air.

Claws dragged along her bare flesh in a mockery of a caress as the shade fully hilted itself within her, the voices murmuring their pleasure like ghosts in the wind. Then with a low groan, it began moving in earnest. Stretching her untried muscles to the point of pain as it steadily thrust into her, dripping darkness with every stroke.

_Endure,_ said the voice from Rin's memories, familiar despite being worn by time and distance and the conflicting roil of emotions she now felt for its owner. _What you cannot stop, you must endure._ Forcing her eyes closed, Rin tried to disassociate herself from the pain flaring between her legs and around her limbs, the red eyes gleaming down at her with frightful intensity, and above all the knowledge that she had _failed_ , failed for years now, and was finally paying the price. _Training, think of it like magecraft training. No matter how much it hurts, you have to —_

The gentle touch on her cheeks disarmed her, more than any pain could have. She startled, then looked up into warm crimson as Sakura tenderly wiped the tears from her eyes.

"I know, I know," she soothed. "It hurts, I know. But it starts to feel good, even when you tell yourself it shouldn't. And then…" She gave Rin a dreamy smile. "Then we'll really be sisters again."

Sakura's hand settled on her cheek, and she could feel power tingling there, suffusing to join the force wracking her body. The shade quickened its pace, fiercely driving itself inside Rin while her sister whispered encouragement and soothing nothings in her ear. It still hurt, cold fire spreading through her core as it buried itself ever deeper, but the awful thing was that Sakura was right. The pain was somehow blooming into pleasure, pooling in her belly and coating the length moving inside her. No matter how much she told herself that it was ensnaring magic, or an automatic reaction of her body — that she couldn't help it — it still felt like a betrayal. Gasps and sobs were steadily being joined by moans, and she was powerless to stop them.

"That's it. Hold onto that feeling," said Sakura, brushing the bangs from her sister's forehead, slicked with cold sweat. "Just a little more, and it will be over."

_Endure, endure_ , Rin repeated to herself in a silent litany, biting her lip to the blood as she tried to stifle her cries. Even if she wasn't sure what she was enduring _for_ , or what reprieve she could possibly find on the other side of this torment. The black fire of the expanding Grail washed everything out in despair, even the nightmare moving above and inside her.

The rhythm of the shade's thrusts grew erratic, its talons catching Rin's hips again in a painful vise as it pulled her flush. It stiffened with a whispered groan, and darkness spilled deep inside her, cold and raw. Seeping into her flesh, burning the edges of her mind with corruption, _leeching into her soul_ with every scream torn from her throat.

Another brush of claws against her cheek, then the shade withdrew. But the strand of darkness tied between them held firm. Filled her until she burned with cold fire.

Rin shuddered violently, then stilled when warm arms wrapped around her shoulders and pulled her close. Sakura leaned down so that their faces almost touched, her hair falling in a curtain of white to shroud them.

"Shhh, it's okay," she crooned, stroking Rin's hair again in an attempt at comfort. "It's over, it's over." When the older turned towards her, still trembling, she saw a small but bright smile. "We're connected now, Neesan. And soon Senpai will be too, and Rider. A _family_."

The scent of wilted blossoms filled Rin's nose as Sakura leaned down to press a kiss to her unresponsive lips.


	3. Shirou

Phantom tremors shot up and down Shirou’s arm, the lingering jolt from stabbing the Azoth Knife through blackened armor to pierce Saber’s heart. It should have been nothing compared to the pain of the blades shifting under his skin, the screech of metal grinding on metal, but he couldn’t shake it as he stepped away from the cloud of black dust fading into stagnant air. 

_Her eyes_ , a frozen gold so different from the shining green that had taken his breath away when she had appeared on that dusty circle. She’d gazed up at him impassively - no, with the merest trace of relief - as he killed her. But Shirou knew even if she didn’t hold a grudge, it didn’t matter. He would never forgive himself.

Wiping away tears that stained his cheeks with rust, he took a shuddering breath and looked down towards the mouth of the passage. Beyond, he could see shadows writhe and crawl along rocky ground, and a great cliff wall. And atop that wall was the girl he loved, lost in the throes of deepest despair; drowning in the hell he had promised to save her from.

_She’s waiting for me._ His jaw clenched as static raced through his mind and blurred his thoughts. _I can’t save everyone, I know that now. Not S——_

Flashes of a smiling face framed with blonde locks.

_——not the old man——_

Moonlight shining upon a deathbed.

_——maybe not even——_

A thousand faces walking by, a thousand lives he wouldn’t save. Each step was both stiff and painful, as flesh muscles gave way to hard steel. He walked on anyway. 

_But I_ will _save... Sakura. Whatever the cost._

He had only managed a short distance when a great shock ripped through the underground passage, throwing him to the ground. The stone vibrated all around him, sending his teeth rattling in their sockets, before subsiding once more. A huff of breath drew his glance to the far wall, where (... _Rider, that’s Rider… )_ was trying and failing to get to her feet. Exhaustion from her desperate charge was etched in every shiver, every stumble. Even with her mask on, he could see the grim frown as she turned to him.

“It’s too late,” she said in a tone of leaden finality.

“No.” He lifted his head and gazed down the passage. “I won’t let it be.”

There was no trace of the rainbow light that had earlier flared in erratic bursts, only the lugubrious dance of living shadows. _T… Tohsaka failed then_ , he thought with a hard swallow. Proud Tohsaka, whose confident swagger and set jaw had made him believe they could do the impossible. Now he was alone, his mind burning to static as his body broke apart.

He shook his head as he straightened again, ignoring the grinding in his joints. _I have to see her—Sakura. I have to see Sakura at the very least. I need to tell her everything I feel about her._ Lifting his chin, he staggered his way into the darkness. _I need her to understand what she means to me_.

“Rider,” he said, pausing only long enough to wipe copper sweat from his brow. “I’m going on ahead.”

“I will follow as soon as I am able,” she said to his back, a tremor running through her usual monotone. Although barely a whisper, it seemed to follow him as he shuffled towards the natural stone archway of the cavern beyond. It was a comfort of sorts, the only one he could carry with him into the darkness.

The air pulsed with mana, the ebb and flow of life energy, but not the joy of sunlight and growing leaves. This was life that festered in the dark, the reek of maggots bursting from meat left to ripen on a hot day. 

_That…_ his head ached… _that guy really wants to be born_ . He grit his teeth to steel himself for another step. _But I won’t let him. I’ll smack him off Sakura and pull her free. I just… I want to see her smile again._

Every step was agony as he forced himself onward, every movement forcing a hundred blades through his flesh until the tips tore through the skin. _Too slow, Emiya. Every moment you take is another moment she suffers._ But what could he do? Several times already he had almost stumbled over a loose stone or uneven patch of ground. If he fell, he wasn’t sure he would be able to pull himself up again. 

“I’ll protect you,” he muttered, his breath coming in ragged gasps. “Even if I’m a fool. Even if I’m a hypocrite. I’ll protect you... Sakura. That’s all I want now.”

Finally he reached the edge of the archway, leaning heavily against it as he caught his breath. For a moment he saw three great claws holding aloft an orb of darkness rimmed with red fire, a blight that pulsed and breathed against a burning sky. Terror lanced through him as he looked upon a scene that ten years had let him bury in the fog of suppressed memory, only to have the War throw it back into his nightmares. Now the sky faded away into underworld gloom, but that ring of damnation remained. _All the World’s Evils_ , he shuddered. A beacon of the tragedy that had ripped apart his past, and would now tear away the future.

_No._ Shirou swallowed down the fear, forcibly loosening its fingers from his throat. _I’ll stop it, for Sakura’s sake._ He clenched his fists, ignoring the way the knives jutting from his fingers cut into his palms, drawing blood. _So she can finally be happy._

Broken sobs drifted from high above, echoing strangely in the vast space. The low buzzing in his brain made it impossible to hear clearly, but it didn’t matter. Metal screamed from every joint as he lunged forward, stumbling towards the sheer stone wall. 

“Sakura!” 

He threw himself against the rocky incline, madly scrambling for purchase among the jagged rocks. Pebbles slid away under his feet, forcing him on all fours despite the iron stiffness in his limbs. Every bend, every stretch was agony flaring up his limbs, as the invading metal burst through. Dirt fell on him in a blinding shower, settling in his hair and sticking to his sweat-slicked face, coating the steel bristling from every pore. Still he hauled himself up, foot by tortuous foot.

“Hold on, Sakura,” he choked out, his muscles constricting around steel, his nerves burning under his skin. “I’m coming, so please...”

Blood wept around hundreds of bristling blades as Shirou finally hauled himself over the top ledge. Panting hard, his gaze followed the twining shadows to where they were deepest, curling around a pale figure, nude but for the red lines patterning her skin. 

“Sakura…” he whispered, then raised his voice as he stumbled towards her. “Sakura, I’m here!”

She was seated comfortably on darkness, strands moving over her back and belly in fond little caresses. One of her hands was stroking through raven hair, drawing his eyes down to the naked girl in her lap. Tohsaka looked to be unconscious, her body limp in the shadows’ grasp. 

“Ahh, Senpai,” said Sakura brightly, snapping his gaze back up to her face. 

That beloved face, whatever the colour of her eyes or the suffering in the white strands of her hair. He moved instinctively towards her, pulled along on an irresistible string despite every step feeling like he was walking on knives. 

“Sakura,” he rasped through gritted teeth. “Is Tohsaka… is she…”

“Neesan is just fine. I—” Sakura’s peaceful smile faltered when she took in the blades erupting from his body, growing even from his cheeks. She clapped a hand over her mouth, her brow creasing. “Oh Senpai, you’re hurt. Look how you’re hurt.”

He tensed as red-stained shadows ran along the floor, stretching gloomy fingers towards him. But instead of attacking him, they merely followed like curious dogs as he walked towards their mistress. 

“It doesn’t matter,” he told her, distantly hearing the rust choking his own voice. “I’m here for you, Sakura.”

“I’m supposed to say that you shouldn’t have,” she murmured through a smile that could melt stone. ”But I’m glad you came, Senpai. I’m so glad.”

Under him, the earth quaked and rumbled. Instinct told him it wasn’t the result of any battle, but rather _its_ birth contractions. He—they—were running out of time ( _it wasn’t too late, he wouldn’t let it be_ ). Forcing away the dull hot pain between his eyes, he held his hand out to the girl he loved, would always love.

“I am too,” he said. “Take my hand, Sakura. I’m going to cut your connection to him.”

Instead of lighting up in hope, her eyes darkened until they were almost maroon. Lips pursed, she flicked her gaze towards the red cloth shrouding his left arm. “You would need to make another sword, Senpai,” she said, her voice trembling. “You’ll hurt yourself more. Break apart more.”

“Sakura, you—”

“He told me you would try anyway,” she said, but the sharpness in the reproach was softened by gratitude. 

“Yeah,” he said, smiling despite his burning nerves. “I’ll protect you. Maybe I’m a hypocrite, but that’s all I want.”

_One more Projection_ . The cloth was rough against his fingers as he reached for its hem. He had never seen the weapon before, but Archer’s patterns surged through his fevered brain. _Rule Breaker, the blade that cuts through all contracts._

Ahh, she was reaching for him. Hope fluttered in his heart. Even if his body drowned in steel, even if his mind disintegrated to dust, it was all worth it…

Shadowed tendrils lunged from all around him, snapping around his hands to pull them down. Ignoring his grunt of dismay, they oozed between the protruding blades, cold streams of darkness that held him fast with iron strength. The shroud rustled around his arm from the sudden movement, but stayed in place. 

“I know,” said Sakura as she rose to her feet, handing off her sister to the waiting shadows so she could walk towards him. Hesitantly at first, but quickly reaching a stride. “That’s why I need to protect you too, Senpai.”

The shadows grew denser around him, covering his limbs and torso entirely. “The world—” 

“Will be drowned in darkness,” she said, her shoulders slumping even as she kept her pace. “Countless more lives, to add to the ones I’ve already devoured. An endless ledger of crimes I will never atone for.”

“Sakura…” Her heart was the same, despite the tumult raging in her eyes. She blamed herself, even now for everything, ripped herself with shards of guilt, but she would bear it all for his sake. It made his chest ache with love, even as it crushed him with despair. “It’s not too late. I can’t understand the burden you carry. I can’t imagine the pain you’ve gone through. But if you feel that way, then you have to live. So you can make up for it.”

Sakura only smiled, fragile as a butterfly but with steel underneath. Firm as the metal skewering him. “We’ll both live, Senpai. I’ll sacrifice the world, so that we can be happy together. I’m choosing my happiness over everyone.” 

“You…”

She stopped in front of him, just out of what would be arms’ reach if the shadows weren’t holding him fast. “That’s what I want, Senpai.” Crimson eyes met his, then glanced away. “Do you hate me for it?”

“I could never hate you.” The words slipped out automatically, but he let them stay said. How could he regret them, when they were the truth?

“But you wanted to be a hero,” she murmured without rancour, still looking at her feet. “You still could be, you know. Throw yourself against that child’s shell. If you pour your life into it, you might still quell him.”

“Not if it means leaving you to suffer,” he said with a shake of his head. It should have hurt, with the way the tendons of his neck had turned to steel bars, but instead he felt only a feathery numbness as the darkness curled around him. He pushed away the discomfort of that realization, choosing to focus only on the girl in front of him. 

“I… I already made my choice. I’m not cutting him away so I can save the world. I’m doing it so I can save _you,_ Sakura.” He glanced at the red cloth again, and felt her gaze follow his. “I want to give you the world back. No, the world as it _should_ have been for you.” An image flashed through the white crackling of his mind, making a shy smile pull at the corner of his mouth. “And the cherry blossoms will bloom soon, remember?”

“I remember.” She smiled through the tears pinpricking in her eyes. “Thank you, Senpai, from the bottom of my heart. I’d scold you because we promised we’d see them together, but…” Her heel dug into the stony ground. “There won’t be a spring. Not anymore.”

More tears fell. She did not bother wiping them away as she looked at him again, her expression pained as steel glinted from the hundreds of blades impaling him, despite the best efforts of her shadows to cover them. “How cruel. I can’t leave you like that, Senpai..”

“It’s not important,” he rasped out, “Nothing is, as long as you…” he staggered forward, and the shadows followed along. “Sakura, I’ll save you—!”

Warm hands closed around his face, pulling him into a kiss. The spikes jutting from his bottom lip must have hurt, but she only pushed her mouth more firmly against his. And perhaps love was a better conductor than metal, because warmth flooded him everywhere they touched. 

When they pulled away, her eyes were radiant. “You already have, Senpai.”

It was all he could do not to take her into his arms - only the fear of cutting her on the blades stopped him. Instead he lost himself in the red sea of her eyes. Endless, peppered with jagged rocks of grief and despair, but he would willingly follow her there.

The shadows deepened, congealing around him to form ghostly hands that glided over this tortured skin. A pleasant chill blossomed after them, seeping into his body and easing the pain of the impaling blades, pouring cold water on overheated nerve endings. _No, I can’t…_ It was becoming difficult to think through the soothing darkness seeping into his mind. _I still have to… Sakura..._

“Sleep now, Senpai. That child will heal you, just like he healed Neesan.” Delicate fingers carded through his hair. “And when you wake up, the world will have been born anew.”

He tried his best to hold on, he really did. But for just a moment, he let himself relax into the caress of loving hands and the respite they offered. Just long enough that his eyes fluttered shut. Just long enough for consciousness to slip away on a crimson sea.


	4. Rider

Sakura was still holding the boy’s body in her arms, lovingly cocooning him in layers of deep shadow, when Rider approached her on whispered feet. Entirely nude, the paleness of her skin sharpened by red scarring and shadows, the girl should have looked vulnerable. Instead, she radiated power with every breath. The Servant hesitated, then pulled the mask from her face. In this chamber of living darkness, even the cursed power of her eyes was swallowed whole. 

Not that it mattered anymore. This was the end. They had failed, their most earnest efforts blown away like ash on the winds of fate. Soon Rider would be swallowed whole by the Shadow, twisted into a fell beast in the mould of Saber and Berserker. At least she could take one last indulgence to comfort her along that grim path — the privilege of gazing upon her Master, just once, without the bindings and constraints that had always separated them.

Silently she took her place behind the girl’s naked shoulder, drinking in every rise of little nod, every movement of soft lips as Sakura hummed cheerfully to herself. Loathe as Rider was to interrupt her, there were things she had to say while there was still time. 

When she cleared her throat, the song lowered to a murmur, though it did not stop.

“Sakura,” she said, her low voice carrying over the angry rumbles of the earth. “I am sorry I failed you.”

“Rider,” murmured Sakura, then turned to face her. The last dregs of aching sorrow were draining from her face, supplanted by a rosy bloom as she beamed at her Servant. “You didn’t fail me at all. You brought Senpai here to me. And look!” A slender finger pointed to the pillar of darkness twisting and writhing above them. “My wish is about to be granted.” 

_ It isn’t _ , Rider thought,  _ not your true wish.  _ But there was no point saying it aloud. Her Master already knew, from the way her voice reached for conviction and drew back madness. If she could draw a veil over it and convince herself, it would be cruel to rip that away from her.  _ Too cruel _ .

So instead she stood silently, hoping to provide some comfort by her presence. It had done little to soothe her Master in the blackened nights of the War, but it was all the Servant could offer, even here at the end.  _ Useless, I really am — _

“Thank you for everything you went through for me,” said Sakura, cutting through her mental castigation. “Even when you were hurt, even when you were humiliated… even when I pushed you away…. You never once stopped thinking about me.”

“Always,” breathed Rider, and felt a tug on her stony heart.  _ From the moment I heard your call through the Third Gate, and our souls brushed, I wanted to help you. To always fight for you, even if no one else would. Because you’re like me.  _ But Rider had never been good with words. All she could manage was an awkward quirk of lips, the ghost of a smile.

It was enough, judging from the way Sakura smiled back, the crease of her brows smoothing. They had always been able to pour meaning into their silences, the play of violet eyes against lavender. That those eyes were crimson now changed nothing, for their souls still tangled as one.

“You love me. Even if they never did,” murmured Sakura, and the kaleidoscope of hurts that flashed across her face told Rider how many people fit there.

Swallowing back the bile rising in her throat, she looked over to the pale face nestled on the girl’s lap. It was just visible among the shadows crawling over his body, weaving in and out of him. Occasionally a metal shard was extracted inch by inch, before darkness flowed in to fill the wound left behind. Fortunate that the boy was in deep slumber, or he would surely have fainted from sheer agony. 

_ The boy who made me hope that we could…  _ She drew her shoulders in tight, as though to build a shelter from the crushing weight of their failure. “That doesn’t change anything. I still couldn’t save you,” she whispered.

“Don’t be silly, Rider. I’ve already been saved.” 

Sakura patted the space next to her invitingly. Shadows pooled and danced on the ground, so thick they could have been blood, and the Servant found herself hesitating. Comfortable as she was with natural darkness, letting it wash over her like a second skin on her hunts, this solidified malice chilled her to the bone.  _ It’s for Sakura _ , she told herself, then steeled her nerves and sat down, ignoring the way clammy tendrils sucked at her materialized skin. 

Her heart did a little leap when Sakura beamed at her, even as the girl’s next words sent a chill down her spine. “Soon everything will be made perfect, you’ll see.” Affectionate fingers squeezed the boy’s shoulder. “Nobody will disturb our paradise. Our isle in his sea of darkness.”

Square pupils widened in surprise as she turned to face her Master. “Isle! Then you…” 

She gaped a moment longer, then cursed herself. Of course Sakura had seen the secluded cavern shrouded in her memories, with its tang of sea water and ancient stone. More than once, she had watched helplessly from the corner when her Master startled from the bed, tears staining her face and foreign names upon her lips. They had never spoken of it, another item in their library of things left silent but understood, but clearly it had affected the girl deeply. It was oddly touching, even if it came with a heavy portion of guilt, knowing she had added yet another burden to her charge.

“A home, just for us.” A hand reached for hers, then grasped it when the spirit offered no resistance. “No gods to scorn us. No ancestors to hurt us.”

When she closed her eyes, the dismal cavern gave way to the taste of salt on the breeze, and the cries of wheeling sea birds. She could feel fingers eagerly weaving flowers in her hair, even as familiar voices mockingly told her they looked terribly out of place. The sisters had been happy there at first, when only the rare warrior stalked their shores.

Then more men came, bringing with them fear and rage. Soon she had choked the cavern in statutes, filled her mouth with blood, and still it hadn’t been enough. Raging like a wild beast, she had seen enemies at every turn, until… until…

“I cannot join you there,” said Rider, keeping her voice flat above the despair bubbling up from her belly. “I might hurt you.”  _ Like I devoured my sisters _ , she thought, and tasted iron in her mouth.

“You won’t,” said Sakura with a confidence that snapped Rider’s gaze to her smiling face. “Because we’ll be at peace.” She took the spirit’s hands in her own, intertwining their fingers. They were cold, the merciful chill of snow blanketing the carnage of a battlefield. “I’m sorry. I can’t give you your sisters back, any more than I can bring Fujimura-sensei for Senpai. But we can still be a family.” 

Perhaps Rider should have been shocked when Master lifted their joined hands and pressed a lingering kiss on the back, but somehow it felt expected.  _ Right _ , in some way that went deeper than the contract that bound them. 

“I can give you a wife,” purred Sakura. Only days ago, that boldness would have been unexpected from her. But whatever evil the Shadow had done, it had also set her free. 

Any doubt of that was erased when the girl nodded towards a patch of shadow, where tendrils slowly twined around her sister’s form. “Make that wives,” she said, her lips curving in the hint of a smirk. “And a husband, too.”

Rider flinched as guilt swelled in her stomach, but Sakura only giggled as she gave her hand a squeeze. “I saw how you looked at them.” She tilted her head, letting her cheek rest against a folded hand. “And I know that you did more than look.”

“That was for blood!” spluttered the spirit, color rising in her cheeks. “Another source of mana, to ease your burden.” 

For the first time since she had entered the chamber, she found herself wishing that she had kept her mask on, or that the shadows licking at her feet might swallow her up. But instead of anger, there was amusement in Sakura’s gaze, and something more pooling underneath. Something darker and rich with sin.

“But you enjoyed it,” said Sakura, with the hint of a smirk. 

There was only a brief hesitation before Rider nodded. Unlike the blue spearman, or the knightly king before her fall, there had never been anything heroic about Medusa’s legend. She was a monster that could only be summoned through a tainted ritual, and entirely in tune with her appetites. Admitting them openly was one of the privileges reserved for monsters.

Running a hand through her long tresses, she offered Sakura a toothy smile. “You’re right,” she said, low in her throat. “When I took the girl’s form to beguile him, I very much enjoyed touching what I had borrowed.” She let her fingers brush over her hips, savouring the memory as a welcome distraction from the dark. “Almost as much as I enjoyed having him move inside me, even through the mists of a dream.”

“He feels so much better in reality, though” said Sakura, smirking even as she traced wistful patterns along her own thigh.

“I can imagine,” said Rider, feeling her face grow heated again. Then she took a deep breath before tearing her eyes away to rest on the far wall. She would have crossed her arms, had Sakura’s grip on her hand not held firm. “But the boy is yours. I will not intrude on the bond between you.”

Not unless she was sure that was what her Master truly wished, and that seemed unlikely. The bond between them had fairly itched with jealousy on those nights when the girl’s suffering body trapped her in bed while the boy sat outside talking with her sister.

“The bond that Senpai and I share is beyond life, and now beyond death too,” said Sakura, pride and affection vibrating in every word. “I was jealous then, because I thought I might lose my sun. But even after I pushed him away, he followed me down to hell. So he could shine for me.”

Another tug on Rider’s hand. “I didn’t know what love was, before. My life was controlled by restraints, by barriers, and I thought of it the same way. Love was something I had to keep locked in a box, pressed up close to my chest where nobody could take it away. But now I know better.” 

Raising her free hand, she opened her palm wide even as she shook her head. “Even if I open the box and share the light, the sun will keep pouring more out. I want us all to bask in it, forever.” The hand clenched into a fist. “Nobody will be left in the dark. Nobody will be pushed to one side. You all belong to me now, and I to you.”

Silence stretched between them, broken only by the crack of falling stone in the distance and the poisoned weight of the Grail’s black light. Rider looked into her Master’s face, noting the complicated play of emotions across her mouth and brow as she tried to dig deeper. After a moment, she sat back on her haunches with a grunt.  _ Maybe not in the details, maybe not in the way you had imagined it before, but... _

“This is your heart’s desire,” she said, and felt her Master’s hand stiffen around hers.

“... yes,” said Sakura as she averted her gaze. “I’m sorry, Rider. I decided all this without you, when we’re supposed to be partners. But even though I know it’s wrong… I can’t regret it.”

“Do not be troubled, Sakura,” said the spirit. “I am always on your side. Even if I do not agree with your wish, I will honour and protect it as best I can.”

She nearly startled when slim arms wrapped around her shoulders, pulling her into an embrace. “Thank you, Rider,” said Sakura against her chest, her voice trembling between grief and joy. “I never deserved you, but I’m grateful. So, so grateful.”

Rider hesitated, then moved her hands to circle the girl’s waist. Awkwardly at first, but with more confidence as her Master pressed in. The warmth of their intermingling breaths, the softness of that chest pushed up against her own, was a welcome contrast to the icy shadows coating her feet.

Even in a materialized body, Servants were painfully vulnerable to spiritual corruption. And the dark presence in the Grail  _ oozed  _ that corruption, throwing it out in great waves around them. Everywhere the shadows touched, her essence cracked and blackened. A far smaller patch had devoured mighty Heracles, and Rider knew she wouldn’t be able to fight it off unless she immediately vaulted for the exit.

She stayed in place, stroking the small of her Master’s back. She would not leave Sakura,or deny her the last comfort she could still give.

“We’re already connected by the contract,” said Sakura distantly, fidgeting with her fingers. “Enough to pull you along. But it might still… it might…”

_ It might still hurt;  _ the words drifted unspoken across their silence. And the shadows  _ did _ hurt, prickling up Rider’s legs and scorching her essence with their corrupting touch. But she only slid a hand forward to catch her Master’s own.

_ That’s right. Even if it means my doom, I’ll stay here with you. _ She gave the hand a reassuring squeeze, careful not to let her own pain constrict it too tightly.  _ I’ll keep you company in the dark, even if you forget who I am. I’ll share your fear and your guilt. _

The girl stirred in her grasp, and Rider reluctantly loosened her arms to release her. But Sakura only took a single step back, just far enough to gaze up into her Servant’s face. An exhale of breath tickled Rider’s mouth, then curious eyes were staring into hers as thumbs brushed at their corners.

“They’re so beautiful,” said Sakura.

Rider stiffened, closing her eyes by reflex. Mortification burned her cheeks, knowing she had shown her Master the unnatural square pupils on cold gray that marked her inhuman nature.

“Please don’t,” said the girl as her hands drifted back to Rider’s shoulders, squeezing them reassuringly. “They can’t hurt me, you know.”

“That’s not why…”

“Then please show them to me?”

Embarrassment tingled on the nape of her neck, but she blinked them open anyway. Anything for Sakura.

“They really are lovely,” said the girl with a grateful nod. “I could stare into them forever.”

“That really would not be… those that did found themselves… ” she stammered, then sighed when Sakura giggled. Still she felt her lips quirk upwards as the girl leaned back in her arms. It was good, that they could share a little laughter. Far better than cowering in the dark, or lingering on the cold burn of the shadows. 

_ Sisters, I understand now _ .  _ There’s no point if she’s not here with me. You felt that way too, didn’t you?  _ Another squeeze of her hand, vibrating with all the unspoken affection between Master and Servant.  _ I’m... happy. More than I can say. _

She let her gaze sweep over Sakura’s face, noting with satisfaction that a bit of colour had returned to that pale face. Her cheeks held a touch of red. As red as the blood flowing under her skin, the pulse of life. So hot and filling, and the battle and shadows had drained her so empty— 

Before she realized it, her mouth was watering, her eyes locked on the appetizing throb of the artery running up the girl’s throat.  _ No!  _ With a supreme effort of will, she wrenched her eyes away.  _ I shouldn’t think of it - I  _ won’t  _ think of it _ .  _ Not with Sakura, not — _

Fingers gently cupped her chin. She was powerless to stop them from turning her head back to face crimson eyes.

“You can taste, if you want,” said Sakura. Seeing the confusion in Rider’s eyes, she crooked her lips. “My blood. I don’t mind.”

“Master, no. I can’t… I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You can’t. Not here, not know. And I want to share everything with you — everything we are. So please, drink.”

She shouldn’t, she knew she shouldn’t, but it was irresistible. Scarlet hunger filled Rider’s head, hot and aching. It drove her forward to run a tongue along her Master’s throat, seeking the vein close to the surface. Molten sweetness filled her mouth when she bit down, better than any of the blood she stole by the worm’s command. Her Master’s blood and essence, freely given.

“Does it taste good, Rider?” Sakura’s voice drifted from above. “I’m glad. Take all you need.” 

The words plucked at the tensed wires of the spirit’s heart, even as the warm fluid soothed her raging throat.

_ Comfort _ , shivered Rider as realization finally dawned.  _ She’s the one comforting  _ me.  _ To help carry me through the Shadow to her wish _ . A hoarse tremor caught in Rider’s throat, vibrating through lips still fixed on warm flesh. It took her a moment to recognize it as a sob.

_ Ahh, Master, you were both right and wrong. There is no end to love, it spills forth as long as you let it. But that’s because it’s as selfish as it is warm. A devouring mouth as much as an open palm. _

Between the comfort of the arms still wrapped around her neck, and the rich taste of blood on her lips, Rider barely noticed the shadows swarming over her. Their prickling was muted in the afterglow, nothing like the thousand icy needles that had riddled her essence earlier. Soon they would stop hurting entirely, and she would be fallen— as dark as Saber, as lost as Berserker. But it was a price entirely worth paying, if it meant she could stay with her Master.

_ Selfish together _ , she thought as she buried her face in the crook of Sakura’s neck.


	5. Illya

Shocks coursed through the ground under Illya’s feet, the vibrations so strong her legs almost buckled under her as she picked her way through the rubble of the collapsing cavern. Still she hurried, past stone walls scored with the lines of fierce battle. The carnage told her that Saber had not gone down easily, and she feared for her brother.

Her idiot brother, determined to light every last shred of himself on the pyre if it meant saving the one he loved. As far from Papa’s choice as she could imagine, and her head reeled from everything that might mean. 

She shivered as she gathered up the sleeves of the Dress of Heaven, keeping them from trailing along the crumbling ground. It felt oddly fragile on her body, when she knew it should have felt heavy as lead; both from the weight of the gold, and the life sacrificed to give it form. That Leysritt had willingly offered it, even holding Illya’s hand to give comfort as her essence drained away into the cloth… angrily Illya brushed away her tears and straightened her crown. 

_ Sella, Leysritt… thank you for everything. You were created to be my maids and guards, but you chose to be my friends, too. You made everything a little less lonely. _

A faint glow caught her eye from the last ring on the dress. The only one filled with a soul, but all the brighter for being Archer’s. Having him with her was comforting, even if it filled her with another pang of guilt. In other worlds, she had not been able to save her brother from the acid threads of fate. But in this one, she would.  _ It’s my duty as his older sister. _

She walked on; it was all she could do, however much her legs itched to run. The Lesser Grail had been built for power, not durability. Even this measured pace was heating up the circuits that composed her body until they seared red under her skin.

The cavern shook again, the roar of a thousand thunderstorms pounding her ears and setting her small body trembling. Despair bit at her heels as she approached the inner chamber. The Grail was almost formed, and soon it would swallow the sky outside entirely. 

Things had gone terribly wrong, perhaps beyond all repair. But she still had to try, for the sake of those precious moments swinging in the park. For the hand clasped in hers as he pulled her from the winter castle despite the danger, insisting they would all make it home. For the first warmth to thaw her frozen fingers in more than a decade.

“You really are hopeless, Oniichan,” she said, shaking her head as she turned a corner in the twisted passageway, “making your cute sister go through—ahhh!”

In her haste, she almost ran directly into the shadow looming over her. She stumbled back as she stared up at the man—yes, it was a man, she could recognize that now that her heart was no longer caught in her throat. Tension bled from her shoulders when she saw he was dead; impaled through the chest on a spike made of coalesced darkness, his limbs trailing like a broken doll. The Black Grail had not welcomed him.

Illya hesitated, then looked at his face more carefully. The features instantly clicked into place. 

_ “ _ That priest, Kotomine…”

The man had frightened her, even when he carried her to safety in his arms. The coldness of his eyes had told her, louder than any words, that he did nothing out of kindness.

Shivers ran down her spine as she considered the shadows twisting around his neck, still strangling the corpse, before glancing back up. Though Kotomine’s eyes were glassy with death, there was a blissful smile on his bloodstained lips. The face of a man that had finally seen salvation.

She followed his blind gaze into the spreading darkness. For one skip of her racing heart, she wished she might see what he did. Anything to give her a bit of courage.

_ For Oniichan _ , she reminded herself as she crossed the threshold into the final chamber.  _ You’re doing this for Oniichan _ .

To her surprise, the swarming shadows parted before her steps once she entered the Grail’s chamber, before closing up to swallow her footprints. Another girl might have let themselves fancy that they feared the shining white of the dress, but stark experience had taught Illya to look reality square in the face. Avenger was letting her through because his ( _ host, mistress, mother _ ) willed it. That impression seemed confirmed when a deeper darkness congealed at the bottom of the cliff wall, forming a giant’s palm. Three clawed fingers, so reminiscent of the Grail’s pillar, spread out to allow her access.

Illya hesitated, then smiled thinly.  _ Where are your manners, Miss Einzbern? A lady doesn’t refuse such a clear invitation.  _

She took a breath to steady herself, then smartly stepped on the offered palm. It lifted her smoothly up, as still beneath her as a boat on a dead lake. It was a marked contrast to the angry shaking of the earth. Before she could consider which she preferred, she was tipped out on the high plateau.

The Grail blazed with light, black and slaughter-red that somehow left everything in deeper darkness rather than illuminating it. Matou Sakura stood proudly beneath it, dressed in a tight-fitting dress of blackened ribbons that hugged every curve. She wore a charming smile that did not touch her eyes as Illya made herself step forward with all the dignity drilled into her by countless lessons. Rider hovered at her Master’s side, a faithful hound to the end. The Servant was staring at Illya through her creepy mask, but there was no threat in that hidden gaze, only pity. It made the stone in Illya’s stomach sink that much deeper. 

Sakura’s smile widened when Illya halted a short distance away. “Illyasviel Einzbern,” she said, rolling her tongue over the foreign syllables. “The White Grail. So you’ve come, after all.”

“Good evening, Miss Matou,” said Illya as she curtsied. She felt a small surge of vindictive glee when the other frowned at the name. “My brother came scurrying here, you know? As his super responsible sister, I’ve come to fetch him home.”

“But he  _ is  _ home,” said Sakura, a serene smile painted on her face. “Here with me.”

She nodded towards a particularly deep patch of shadows behind her, where shadows writhed posessively over a prone form. Illya was not surprised to see the familiar shock of reddish-brown hair, anymore than the trail of red scraps that led to another body a little further on. 

That was it, then. No comforting Berserker at her shoulder, no allies at her call. A shiver ran down her spine, vibrating in tune with the circuits that composed her body. She was alone in this nightmare, facing down the wraith her family had sunk into the Grail in a mad bid for victory. How many more times would she pay for the sins of her fathers?

_ This is the last time _ , she realized, and raised a sleeve to stifle a giggle.  _ This is the end of the path. That’s a silver lining, at least. _

“What’s so funny?” asked Sakura, slender brows furrowing even as her smile remained in place. 

“I’m shocked you would call a place like this your home,” said Illya. With deliberate slowness, she swept her gaze over the broken stone and pulsing darkness of the cavern. “I guess you really are Rin’s sister. You both have terrible taste.”

The other girl stiffened, all pretense at cheer slipping from her expression. “I never liked you,” she said bluntly.

“The feeling is entirely mutual, you know,” said Illya, dripping sweetness. She casually flicked the end of her scarlet stole. “Will you kill me then, oneesan?” 

Sakura’s eyes were hard red stones in her face as she straightened, an upstart queen putting on airs she had not earned. “I may not like you, but you came here to save Senpai. That dress… you were ready to die for him.”

Illya nodded stiffly. “I still am. It’s an older sister’s duty to take care of her younger sibling.”

She did not miss the way the other’s gaze flicked towards a certain rise of shadows, or the tightening of her fists at her sides, before Sakura turned to face her once more.

“That’s right. You’re his sister, even if you’re a pest.” The tranquility in her voice was the stillness of a lake over a roiling undertow. “He would be sad if I killed you, even if he’d stay by my side anyway.” 

Her hands unfurled, palms opening towards the homunculus. “I want Senpai to be happy, more than anything. You make him happy.” Her stance softened, a small smile gracing her lips. “So there’s a place in our paradise for you too, Illyasviel. Isn’t that wonderful?”

Illya’s eyes narrowed underneath the shining white crown. “There’s nothing wonderful about what you did to my brother.”

Doubt flashed across the other’s expression. “He’s at peace—”

“I came here so my brother could live. Because he found someone he loved enough to sacrifice everything for, and I wanted him to have the happiness I couldn’t grasp.” Contempt stained her face as she glared at the other girl. “To think he wasted it on  _ you _ .”

“You…” growled Sakura. There was chained fury in her eyes as she stepped forward, and shadowy tendrils snapped with every twitch of pale fingers. “How dare you—? Senpai was in tatters when he arrived here tonight!  _ You _ let him come here, in that state!”

“He hurt himself like that because he wanted to save you. There was nothing Rin or I could do to stop him.”

“ _ I _ saved him! I’m strong now, strong enough to pull the blades from his body!” The shadows lashed behind her. “Strong enough to protect him!”

“If that was really true, you would have killed yourself,” said Illya coldly. “You should have died before letting it get to this stage, oneesan.” 

Sakura clapped her hands to her mouth, stifling the wail of a wounded animal. When she looked at the Einzbern again, her eyes were full of angry reproach.

“Why is everyone always telling me to die!” she hissed. “I don’t want to die. I want to live happily with Senpai.” She wrung her hands. “All my life, I suffered for others. Now let them suffer for me.” 

“Dying is the destiny of all Lesser Grails,” said Illya, Grandfather Acht’s words drifting up from memory. “All we can do is choose what that death is in service of.”

“I’ve made my choice,” Sakura snapped.

“You’ve doomed him.”

“No, I’ve saved him! And Neesan and Rider too! There will be another world for us, one where we can live in joy. The child promised me.”

“Avenger lies,” said Illya, pressing her lips into a thin line. “He lies all the time, about everything.”

The other girl’s shoulders slumped as her gaze fell to the ground. For a moment, Illya thought she might have reached her, cut through the shadow consuming her. Then Sakura lifted her head, and her eyes glittered merrily. 

“He does lie,” she admitted with a smile. “But he can be kind too, when he forgets not to be. When he forgets all the sins that the world carved on his flesh.” She raised a hand to cover her giggle. “And he has a soft spot for me.”

Despair flooded Illya’s chest, and bubbled up in her throat as anger. “I should have told Berserker to kill you,” she spat. “Even if Oniichan would hate me for it. This hell is your fault.”

Sakura’s shoulders hitched as her face tightened in rage, the shadows stretching menacingly beneath her feet. Then, as suddenly as a candle blown out by wind, she resumed her placid expression. 

“It’s alright. Lash out as much as you need to. Since it’s all for Senpai’s sake, I’ll forgive you.”

A fresh swell of fury quickened Illya’s blood. Her hand swept through her hair, ready to pluck a strand and summon one of her familiars for a last stand. One that would kill her, the subtle tension in Rider’s frame told her as much, but that was for the best. There were fates far worse than death, and she saw several reflected in the mad crimson of the Black Grail’s eyes.

Then Sakura turned away, ignoring Illya’s defiance entirely in favour of kneeling down in the pooling shadows. Drawing Shirou up into her arms, murmuring over him like a lost treasure. He looked so young cradled there in the shadow queen’s arms. Peaceful even, his brows smoothed out and his mouth relaxed for once. 

Tension set in Illya’s jaw, wire-tight, before she released it in a sigh.  _ I can’t leave my little brother like this, all alone with her in the dark. I have to help him stay sane, even if it means going to hell with him _ .

So she said nothing as she let her arms slump to her sides, only glared resentfully at Sakura’s back. The other girl’s infuriating crooning filled the air as she fussed over Illya’s brother, punctuated only by distant quakes and the slithering of shadowy tentacles as they pillared up towards the cavern’s roof. Illya shifted on her feet, half-convinced she had been forgotten about entirely.

Then Sakura paused in her ministrations, her hand resting tenderly on Shirou’s cheek. “I want to be alone with him when he wakes up,” she murmured, “here at the dawn of our isle.” Her voice hardened as she glanced towards her Servant. “Rider,” she said simply, and the spirit nodded.

When Rider reached down and carefully swung Rin’s unconscious form over one shoulder, little veins of darkness dancing and spreading over the toned muscles of her arms, Illya felt her resolve slip away. Desperately she grabbed her hair, pulling out handfuls of silvery strands as the incantations burned in her throat. 

“ _ Engelsgedicht - Sfünftes Lied! Storch Ritter—! _ ”

She had barely formed the first bird when the air pressure shifted, and Rider was at her side. A gloved hand clapped over her mouth with cold finality.

“I admire your courage, but it’s too late,” said Rider flatly. “The child is already born.”

Still Illya struggled against a grip hard as iron, her eyes wide with terror as the shadows writhed in a mad dance around them. 

The Grail opened, and all was black fire.


	6. And last

Shirou woke to emptiness. There was a numbness in his body, weighing down his limbs and keeping his head flat against… he wasn’t sure what. Too soft for stone, but viscous in a way sheets had never felt against his back. The blades were gone, but the pulse of blood was dull in his veins. He didn’t feel cold, or hurt, or even scared. He felt… hollowed out, like a tumbleweed in a ghost town. Like the wind could just blow him away.

It was dark here, so dark it left a taste in his mouth, stagnant water and old leaves rotting underground. Yet he could still make out the great tendrils holding up the cavern ceiling. The latticework of some malignant spider, glowing with a faint red light.

“We lost, then.” The words creaked as he forced them through his constricted throat. His heart was pounding, his head spinning, and still some stubborn spark inside him demanded he get to his feet.  _ Get up and fight. Maybe there’s still a chance to beat him. Maybe — _

(There wasn’t. He knew it deep in his bones.)

Craning his neck, he stared into the darkness.  _ Sakura. _ He scrabbled to get up, hands slipping on the clammy surface.  _ Is she here too…? She must be so frightened. I have to help her. _

Slender hands gently but firmly pushed him back down. “I’m right here, Senpai.”

He turned his head to the side, and found himself staring into dull red eyes. Sakura was bent over him, her hands clutched in her lap.

“Sakura, you…” he began, then stumbled over his own tongue, thick and heavy in his mouth. He swallowed and tried again. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” she said, her voice curiously flat. There was still a trace of the desperate joy that had thrummed through it before, but it seemed muted in this deeper darkness. “This is only temporary, while that child remakes the world. Soon he’ll make a place for us. The place he promised.”

“Remakes the world,” breathed Shirou as understanding, sharp and terrible, pierced his breast. “Then that guy…

“He’s out in the world now.” She looked up towards the cavern roof, and he couldn’t miss how tightly the skin was drawn over her face. “He’s drowned all of Fuyuki… no, more than that. He…” 

Horror gripped Shirou’s heart in cruel fingers, followed closely by the sharp needling of guilt all through his nerves. Then the city he had grown up in... faces swam before him, so familiar he had never stopped to really consider them. Issei pouring over the latest council reports, Taiga and her grandfather as they passed around cups of sake for the holidays, the smiles and laughter of his classmates, the hawking of the merchants in the shopping district.

Time melted away from him, and he was choking on smoke, trapped under burning rubble as embers licked at his feet— 

( _ Burned away, all of them. They all died so you could live, a sacrifice you can never pay for and then you abandoned us betrayed us for her and we died again for you, died died suffered and died) _

— his mouth opened to scream, but all that emerged was a strangled sob.

Next to him, hands clenched on her forearms, Sakura grimaced. “Because you chose me, everyone… all the people you wanted to protect are...” Her voice hitched as she clawed blindly at her knees. “The White Grail said I ruined you. I… I…”

_ White Grail _ . The title drifted over him meaninglessly before his exhausted brain snapped it into place. A lonely girl, shut away in her icy castle despite her cruelly short years. The little sister he had met only days ago, but whose smile he wanted to protect with all his heart.  _ Illya. _

That name rattled with chains of love and duty, and he desperately grabbed them to pull himself up from the pit.  _ Illya. Sakura _ . They still needed him, more than ever in the face of calamity.

_ That’s right. I knew that my crime would catch up to me. I knew this might happen, when I killed the me I believed in for ten years.  _ He hauled himself painfully up into a sitting position. _ When I chose to fight for her— _ with  _ her—that night outside the Church. _

A sigh of misery echoed from beside him. Sakura bowed her head when he looked at her, unwilling to meet his gaze.

“Senpai, I…”

Shirou flicked her forehead, drawing a startled yelp from her. He met her disbelieving gaze with the broadest smile he could manage.

“Right now, you’re thinking stupid like ‘he must hate me’, aren’t you?”

“Senpai!” she protested, rubbing the sore spot.

“Never. I could never hate you.” His heart did a little leap from under the veil of grief when crimson eyes widened. “I already said it, yeah?”

Her chin trembled for a few beats of his heart, then she broke into a sob. Big fat tears rolled down her cheeks, intermingling with snot as she hiccuped on empty air. There was guilt in the broken cadence of her voice, but also joy. 

He thought his heart might burst from love for her.

“I’m terrible,” she sniffled, raising a hand to wipe away the mess from under her nose, “that I’m happy you love me, even if I’m like this.”

She came willingly when he drew her into his arms, resting her head on his shoulder. The warm salt of her tears was nothing compared to the shy smile pressed into his skin.

“Will you hold me?” she said. “Even though I killed the world?”

“Always,” he replied. He pulled her closer, pressing her breasts against his chest until all space had disappeared between them. “I have you.”

_ I couldn’t save everyone, I know that now. But if I can save one person, if I can bring joy to the person that’s most important to me…  _ She had destroyed the world and thrown everything into ash. But the smile she was giving him, the one that stretched ear to ear...

_ I saved her _ , he realized, and it was light poured directly into his veins. A smile curved his lips, full of relief and joy and…

He blinked as wonder sparked between his eyes.  _ Ahh, the old man’s smile.  _ The one that he had longed for, chased along Kiritsugu’s path of heroism. He had thought it lost forever but now...

“Sakura,” he breathed, “I’m glad it was you. Thank you for everything.”

She stared at him in disbelief for a moment, then nodded as her face lit up in joy. “I’m the one who should be thanking you, Senpai,” she giggled, and the darkness didn’t seem so deep.

“Shirou,” he said after a moment.

“Eh?”

“There’s nothing between us anymore, right? No ranks, no battles, no secrets. So please, call me Shirou.”

“Shirou,” she says, savouring the name as she might sweet fruit.

“That’s right,” he murmured, stroking her back. Inhaling the scent of her hair, old dried grass but with something fresh and fragrant underneath. Perhaps he was simply imagining the latter, but he didn’t care. So long as it was her.

Shifting to settle more comfortably against each other, boy and girl waited for the world to shift. 

* * *

Fingers gripping the table so tightly that her already pale knuckles were bone white, Illya watched her brother and Sakura work in the kitchen. 

“Looks like the seaweed is almost done soaking,” said Shirou appreciatively. “I’ll let you handle the sauce then?”

“Leave it to me, Shirou!” said the girl cheerfully, pulling up her sleeves. 

Illya held her silence as Sakura set a bowl on the counter, humming as she measured out ingredients. There was real joy in her eyes as she deftly whisked the mixture. Shirou’s were half-closed and pensive, although they brightened along with his smile whenever Sakura turned to him. 

Aromas drifted over to the homunculus, frying oil and the salt tang of vinaigrette. They were having seared salmon and seaweed salad tonight, a favourite of the girl’s. But to give the devil her due, she was always gracious about making everyone’s favourite dinners in turn. Even sauerbraten and pancake soup, although the beef always tasted a bit off. A little too sweet.

Frowning, she found her eyes irresistibly drawn to fluttering purple hair as the girl bustled around the kitchen. It made Illya think of the green leatherbound book tucked away in her parents’ old room at the Einzbern castle. Most of her father’s belongings had been ruthlessly purged after his failure, but this one had somehow slipped through the cracks for years before Illya herself had burnt it, page by page, on the fire the night before she left for Japan. But before then, the book of fables had been one of her tools to learn the language ( _ and to feel a connection with that man; funny that it had taken the end of the world before she could admit it) _ .

_ Cherry blossoms grow pink because they feed on blood _ , the book had said,  _ drawn up by their roots from bodies buried underneath them. The more death they drink, the deeper and lusher the colour of their petals. _

Illya shivered and looked away, towards the far wall and the hallway behind it, the one that led to the front door. Every morning, her brother and the girl would discuss what groceries and supplies they needed for the house. Every afternoon, they would show up inside the entrance, neatly packed in plastic bags branded with supermarket logos. It never failed, even though none of the house’s occupants ever set foot outside despite the clear spring sky and refreshing breeze in the courtyard. 

Illya had thought several times about opening that door and stepping through, but she could not risk it. Not until she was ready to take action.

Her eyes strayed in the other direction, towards the closing doors and the hallway that led to the guest rooms. Rider would be sitting in her room, sipping tea and reading a book. If Illya closed her eyes, she could imagine the rustling of paper as the spirit patiently turned the pages. She wasn’t sure if Avenger could supply new books, or even if the ones from the original Emiya household had manifested here. Perhaps they contained only what Sakura remembered, favourites picked from her memories for their ‘isle’, and Rider had been rereading the same few texts again and again. If so, she never complained.

Forcing her rapid breathing to calm, Illya folded her hands in her lap as she cast her mind out for what felt like the thousandth time. For all the quality of her numerous magic circuits, they were useless without a plan. All her formulas and rituals had failed, but she wouldn’t give up. There had to be some escape from this poisoned paradise, into one of the countless worlds promised by the Jewelled Blade. She could yet rescue her little brother.

Shirou would be of no help. The girl hated to see him project any blades, let alone one as taxing as the gem sword, and he would abide by her wishes. Illya sighed as she reflected that when she did find a tunnel out, she would need to drag her idiot brother kicking and screaming with her. Replacing the world with a single person had not taught him how to value himself, it had simply narrowed his lens.

Rider wasn’t any better. Already devoted to her Master before passing through her baptism of darkness, the spirit now breathed entirely in synch with the girl. Just like B— but no, she couldn’t think of him now. It wouldn’t help her. 

A sigh drifted from the other side of the table. Without looking away from the kitchen and its occupants, Illya tugged on Rin’s sleeve, drawing clouded blue eyes to her.

“It’s not too late, Rin,” she whispered, her voice carrying a pleading edge she thought she would never use with a once-rival. “I know you remember the blueprints. Even if we don’t have the Azoth blade anymore, we can still search for the components.” Her grip tightened on the red cloth of the other’s sweater. “Help me.”

Rin shook her head and cupped her hands around her teacup. “It’s over, Illya. Even if we manage all that...” She stared into the steaming amber liquid. “I won’t abandon Sakura, not a second time. If this is what makes her happy… then I’ll stay here too.”

“How can you say that?” hissed Illya. “If not for you, then for them?” Dropping her arm below the table, she pointed to the other magus’ belly, just starting to swell.

“It’s not so bad,” murmured Rin, “Sakura loves us.” She turned towards the homunculus, pressing her lips together. “She would love you too, if you let her.”

Illya closed her eyes and imagined the body that the girl had repeatedly offered her to replace her own deteriorating one. Silvery-white tresses would spill down the shoulders of a lithe and elegant body, generous in hips and breasts. The mirror image of her mother’s form, for Avenger was intimately familiar with it following the last war. But woven from shadows instead of alchemical dust, and all the sturdier for it.

A body she could fully join them with, in all ways. The thought of sharing that girl’s bed made her skin crawl with a tangle of things she refused to unravel. Because there really was love there, as awful as that was.

So far Illya had refused her offer, even with her body breaking down a little further every day. If it had been just her, she could have born it. But the quiet pain in Shirou’s eyes when he saw his sister move a little more stiffly, her breathing a little more laboured, drained her resolve as steadily as meltwater under the sun. 

If she didn’t choose it soon, then the girl would choose it for her. Illya wanted to hold out at least that long, so she could have the meagre satisfaction of forcing her hand. But with every passing day and every crease in her brother’s brow, she felt herself slip a little more. 

“Come with me,” she asked Rin again. She did not let herself be discouraged by the other’s long sigh. She could still fix this. She could still save them, if only she could find the right path.

She looked back towards the kitchen. Shirou was smiling as Sakura lifted a spoon up to his mouth, inviting him to taste.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that concludes my first and hopefully last foray into gratuitous darkness. I'm still not entirely sure what I was thinking, writing something like this, without any uplifting counterpoint or truth. Just a vision of what a seemingly benign wish might look like, thrown through the broken lens of All the World's Evils.
> 
> To be entirely honest, I nearly didn't post it at all. But I wrote it, so I have to own it. If you've made it this far, thank you for following along this little bit of hell with me. I solemnly promise the next work will be, if not necessarily pure fluff, then at least nothing as grim as this.


End file.
